


Still

by PendulumChanges



Series: Season 3 series [3]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:34:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5556227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PendulumChanges/pseuds/PendulumChanges
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between episode 303 and 304 (when Justin makes the poster for the Gay and Lesbian Center carnival and when Brian’s nephew accuses him of molesting him).  This is sort of a fleshed out and mixed together fic based on my double-drabble titled 3am and my other drabble titled Your Presence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still

_Gasping awake into reality. The terror fades. Safety returns as my heart slows and my tears dry. He's there..._

_A hand on my hip. A thumb rubbing soft, slow circles near the base of my spine. A barely there breath on the back of my neck._

_He doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to._

***

With one huge gulping, gasping breath I am wrenched out of the dream. One moment I’m in the depths of a nightmare, running and screaming and absolutely terrified. And the next I’m in bed, shaking and silent and absolutely terrified. My body is awake, but my mind is struggling to catch up. My eyes are open, but I can’t see anything. I can feel my heart pounding inside my chest. It’s hard to breathe. My legs shake as I swing them off the mattress and onto the floor.

I sit on the edge of the bed and try all the things they taught me in the hospital to stop the panic. Try to take deep breaths and think simple, safe thoughts. But the adrenaline is making my hands shake and I can’t stop thinking about the dream and my breaths are getting shallower and louder and I know what I need. Still.

I slide off the edge of the bed, careful not to wake Ethan. I tiptoe across the room, pull my phone out of the pocket of my jacket. Hit the speed dial. It starts to ring as I open the door and slip into the hallway. I’m just sitting down on the stairs when he answers.

“Hello?” His voice is a little hoarse. I know I woke him up.

“Hey."

“Justin?”

“Yeah… Hi.” I draw a shaky breath and I’m about to say… something, I don’t even know what, when he cuts me off.

“Are you ok?” He sounds much more awake now.

I take another quick, shuddery breath so I can say yeah, of course, I'm fine, but I can’t get the words out. Besides, it’s not true. It doesn’t matter though because he doesn’t wait for my answer before he asks, “Where are you?”

“At Ethan's. I’m ok… I’m just… I just…”

… needed to hear your voice. I'm just scared. I’m ok, but I can't stop shaking and it's hard to breathe and I'm sitting here on the steps in this dirty hallway wishing I had woken up next to you instead of him. I need what I always need after a nightmare, even after all this time, even when I’m here with Ethan.

"I just, um…"

“I’ll be right there.” He hangs up before I can say anything else, before I've said anything at all really. I don’t know what I would have said. I know I wouldn’t have tried to stop him from coming here, which is exactly what he’s doing right now. It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d tried. He heard my voice and he looked at the clock and he knew why I called.

I get up and open the door to Ethan’s apartment. I’ve been living with him for almost two months, but I don’t think of it as "our" apartment. I definitely don’t think of it as home. Brian, he's my home. Still. Maybe.

Ethan doesn’t stop snoring as I pull jeans on over my underwear and a hoodie on over my t-shirt. I carry my sneakers into the hallway before putting them on and heading downstairs. I wait by the front door, sleeves pulled over my hands, lightheaded, shivering.

The vette pulls up to the curb and he cuts the engine. I open the door, step onto the sidewalk, climb in through the door Brian has leaned over and pushed open for me. Then I just sit there, stare out the front window, tuck a shaking hand between my knees. I’m suddenly unsure, my mind racing and my eyes starting to burn, confused about whether or not this is ok.

He waits, but only a moment, before reaching over and gently pulling me into his arms, no questions asked. Because of course he already knows why I called and he always knows what I need. Still. And not until his arms are around me do I feel like I can actually breathe again. The fear flows from my body. My heartbeat slows to match his. All I’m thinking about is the time glowing on the clock in the dashboard. A few minutes later, as I’m mumbling an apology for waking him up at 3 in the morning, he squeezes me tighter and whispers, “Shut up.”

Two hours later, as a dusty light starts to fill the street, I wake up – my head on his shoulder, wrapped in his arms, his lips resting against my forehead. Sitting up and separating slowly, we just stare at each other, his hand on my shoulder. His eyes search mine, making sure I’m really ok. I breathe in, breathe out, nod.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

I climb out of the car and open the door to the building. Walk back up the stairs, quietly open the door to the apartment, slip off my shoes and jeans and tiptoe across the floor. Silently remove my sweatshirt, carefully crawl back into bed. Ethan doesn’t even stir.

***

_Gasping awake into reality. The panic builds. My heart races and the sobs come quickly. He's there…_

_Hands all over my face, trying to wipe away my tears. Arms trapping me. A too loud voice asking me what's wrong._

_I want to go back home._


End file.
